Remus: The Complete Story
by Lil Smartass
Summary: Just what the title says. Starts with the others finding out he's a werewolf but may have flashbacks later. Rating may change. Please R
1. Discovery of a werewolf and of friends

Disclaimer: Not mine and that's all I'm saying.

Second Year: The marauders find out about Remus's furry little problem.

James, Sirius and Peter sat in the library. The table before them was heaped with books and pieces of parchment. Those nearest the bottom related to the history of magic essays the boys had been completing some hours before but the ones that they were using now were advanced medical textbooks. Any onlooker would surely have been surprised to see three young and quite clearly healthy boys pouring avidly over such material but the reason for their disconcertion was obvious in the whispered conversation that they were holding.

"It's obvious that it's not his mum who's ill. I mean, he's always pale and shaking and sometimes he can barely stand. But if he's so ill that he won't tell us…it must be something really bad, life threatening." James's voice trailed off and he flicked even more urgently through the book which he held. Determined, although he was unsure what he was looking for, to find something to help his friend.

"Hmmm?" Sirius glanced up absently and gazed around in a vague way. One might have thought that he was attempting to locate the librarian. The two boys who sat opposite him knew better. They knew that he was merely so accustomed to the presence of Remus and that he was searching diligently for the group's missing member.

"And remember that time he collapsed in Potions but when we went to visit him he wasn't there? What if he had been transferred to St. Mungo's? What if he had to see a _specialist_?" James said the word specialist the way other might say starving vampire.

"Yes," agreed Sirius with the same disconnected air as he scanned the surrounding area. He had heard this so often in the past six hours that James's voice no longer held any interest.

"It could be this," chimed in Peter. He read aloud from the giant leather bound book before him, "_Magical Irregularity Syndrome (MIS) is characterised by magical excellence in the sufferer. These abilities are offset by the constant burdens of fatigue, nausea, extreme weight loss, headaches, collapse and muscle pain. Mood swings are also common and those with MIS are often loners by nature. _Remus fits all of that."

"True," agreed Sirius. "I think MIS is treatable though. Besides Remus would tell us wouldn't he? What else does it say?"

Peter shifted the book and continued. "_MIS is often associated with mental instability however-_"

"So he might not tell us," interjected James. "Sorry Peter, carry on."

"_-however, it is uncommonly difficult to mask due to the persistent effects of persistently visible magic. Those with MIS usually support such visible features as horns, unusually coloured skin patches (e.g. polka dotted in places with lurid and vibrant shades) or extra limbs. _"

"I'm sure we'd have noticed if Remus had polka dots or horns," muttered Sirius in his usual deadpan way.

"This is hopeless," James muttered moodily.

Peter, who could sense that James was on the verge of a massive tantrum, got up and walked away with a quick look at Sirius. For a few moments he listened to the soothing sounds of Sirius calming James down and the night breeze. He gazed dreamily out of the window, admiring the perfectly round moon. Then suddenly, abruptly, something clicked. With a sharp gasp he dove into the book lined interior of the library, abandoning the medical section and foraging deeper into the Dark Creatures area. His finger ran along the titles, barely pausing Acromantula, Giants, Krups, Vampires, and finally, Werewolves. He scanned quickly along the titles: How to kill werewolves, how to guard against werewolves, how to avoid werewolves, how to identify werewolves. It was this last slim volume that he slid quickly from the shelf and hurried back to the table and the gentle sputtering of the lamp to read.

James still looked furious but Peter barely looked at him. He turned the pages feverishly, tongue poking from between his lips.

"Found something?" Sirius asked, leaning his chair back until it tilted dangerously and swinging on this perch. Sirius cared hugely for Remus, but looking through piles of books never had been and never would be his forte. For Remus he would endure it but he would never enjoy it. The sooner one of them found something the better and not just for Remus.

"I think so. He's never here at the moon is he? And he was twitchy the day we had Dark Creatures outlined in DADA. His eating habits are odd too. He eats virtually nothing for weeks and then stuffs his face like food is going to be outlawed. And I've seen something about human symptoms. I know I have."

Sirius looked at James. "Do you know what he's talking about?"

"Haven't a clue. Maybe we should start looking up illnesses that make you talk rubbish if you keep looking at pointless books," he directed a venomous look at the table of said books.

"No, no, no I want human symptoms not a diagram of snouts," Peter muttered.

"Snouts? Peter are you OK? How tired are you?"

"Got it!" Peter swiftly scanned the page. "Check, check, check. I think I have it. Gentlemen," James and Sirius leaned forwards, Sirius chair falling onto all four legs with a clunk, "I think Remus is a werewolf."

"He can't be," James denied flatly, going white.

"He'd better bloody not be," said Sirius, flushing dully.

"What?" Peter looked from one to other.

"You wouldn't understand, you're muggle born. Werewolves aren't just monsters when they're wolves. They're dangerous and vicious. The wolf is always there. They aren't humans who sometimes look like wolves; they're wolves who look like humans. They can turn on anyone at anytime. Most of the worst crimes in the wizarding world are carried out by werewolves. They murder and rape and…and…stuff," James concluded lamely. "They're barely human," he added.

"He can't be," Sirius said. "Dumbledore isn't an idiot. He wouldn't let…not in a room with other people. Not in lessons and stuff and at night and Remus tutors first years. They wouldn't let him if he was. Would they?"

"Give me that," James snatched the book from Peter. "Tiredness, frequent marks (e.g. bruising and lacerations) following the full moon, irritability which often erupts in violence preceding the full moon, extreme hunger preceding full moon but no weight gain, headaches, fainting, withdrawn personalities, amber or golden eyes whilst in human form, superb reflexes, likes rare meat. It all fits Sirius."

"They can't know then. He's unregistered. He's illegal. I'll have him expelled for this, have him put in Azkaban. I'm going straight to Dumbledore."

"But this is Remus," insisted Peter. "He isn't violent or dangerous or any of the bad stuff."

Both of the other two sat down once again, looking drained by the seriousness of their discovery. "We've never seen him be violent," began James.

Sirius corrected him sharply, "No, don't you remember he pushed Snivelly a couple of months back. Nearly knocked him unconscious. And he hit that third year with his transfiguration book didn't he? Gave him a proper shiner." Both of these incidents had been funny at the time, looked at in the light of this knew information they took on sinister undertones.

"That isn't fair!" spoke up Peter. "This is Remus. Remus. Our friend. Remember? Our brother. You can't suddenly decide to disown him for something he can't help. Are you going to turn on me because I'm a…a…mudblood, Black?" he allowed his lip to curl in a sneer.

Both James and Sirius gaped at him, partly because they had never heard Peter disagree with anyone, least of all them, so openly. Sometimes they said stupid things deliberately just because it amused them to see Peter falling over himself to agree with their made up opinions. "You know I don't agree with my family's prejudices," Sirius started.

"This is prejudice. It's just the same. You know Remus. You know he would never hurt anyone, anything. You know he would never hurt one of us."

"Yes, Well. He didn't tell us. He's been lying to us. Doesn't he trust us?" demanded James, clearly determined to be angry about something.

A withering retort formed in Peter's mind but he lacked the courage to voice it aloud to James Potter of all people. Fortunately Sirius did the job for him.

"Probably because he thought we might reject him for being dangerous filth," he said smiling laconically. "Imagine if we'd said all of that to Remus, we'd never have forgiven ourselves."

These well chosen words did their duty. The anger abruptly went out of James. "You're right," he said decisively. He turned to Peter, "Thank you. And sorry."

Sirius nodded his agreement but said nothing. "What are we going to do then?"

"Talk to him. Tomorrow. Make sure he knows that he doesn't have to hide it from us. Then we're going to find a way to help him."

"Going to develop the cure are you?" Sirius mocked but gently, his eyes had just fallen on the still open werewolf book. He read "_-the monthly transformations are painful, for many unendurable. They often lead to madness in at least half of all known cases result in death. It may be this, in conjunction with the wolf's killer instinct, which leads to the werewolf's violent nature and penchant for brutal killing. Leading psychologists have seen this as a method of projecting the pain of transforming onto other creatures with a classic 'bully' mentality. Others-_" Sirius snapped the book shut. What did they know? He followed James from the library, blowing out the lamp as he passed.

·

The next morning the three boys made their way to the hospital wing. They took with them a stack of toast, James's last remaining Hogsmede chocolate bar left over from Christmas and the werewolf book, marked at the page that they had been reading. Waiting until Madam Pomfrey was out of sight, they snuck in. Most of the beds were empty. One Slytherin boy who James had hexed for insulting Peter the day before lay behind a set of curtains and at the very back, similarly screened was-

"Hey mate," grinned Sirius.

"Guys?" Remus's eyes widened. "How did you know I'd be here?"

James smiled, "Intuition. We brought some things you might be interested in." He dropped the offerings of toast and chocolate alongside the book on Remus's bed.

Remus smiled in spite of himself. "Bribery Potter?"

"No. Feeding the beast."

Something flickered in Remus's eyes. With one hand he reached for a piece of toast and with the other for the book. How to identify the-oh. You know then." It wasn't a question. "You needn't worry. I'll move out of the dorm. Dumbledore told me I could have a room of my own. I'm s s sorr sorry." The stutter he had had at the beginning of first year returned. He looked at the chocolate on the bed and then held it out to James, not meeting any of their eyes. "If this is guilt chocolate you don't need to worry. You can have it back. It was your Christmas present. I knew you wouldn't want my friendship if you found out. I'll always be grateful for the last year. I won't hold this against you. You don't need to buy me off. I only ask that you won't tell anyone."

James simply looked at him. This conversation was not going how he had imagined. Last night he had thought that on finding out that they knew Remus would say something along the lines of 'Hooray, now I don't need to skulk around anymore.' Completely wrong-footed he opened and shut his mouth a few times like a goldfish. Remus, his gaze fixed firmly on his own knees, did not notice.

"How magnanimous of you," Sirius drawled sarcastically, sounding a great deal like Lucius Malfoy, the head boy. "How generous. You will _forgive _us. Has it ever crossed your mind Lupin that we should never forgive you if you were to move out of our dormitory and break up our little band?"

"I…but…I…You want me to stay? But I'm a werewolf. I'm vicious and dangerous and unclean. Surely your family taught you that." Remus's voice held the faintest tones of irony.

"Rubbish," said Sirius stoutly, as though he hadn't said these exact things just a few short hours ago. "You're Remus. You're our fellow marauder and we should be bereft without you."

"You want me to stay?" Remus repeated incredulously.

"Of course," James answered, finding his voice at last. Peter nodded eagerly.

"You're all mad as fish in a kettle," Remus said wonderingly.

"That's why you love us Moony old pal," smiled Sirius.

"Moony?"

"I thought it would be a good nickname, all things considered."

Remus smiled his first real smile of the morning. "I love it. I've never had a nickname before."

"Then I dub thee Moony of Gryffindor tower," Sirius said, taking this as an opportunity to hit his friend on the head with the thermometer next to the bed.

"Ow!"

"Don't be such a girl Moony."

There was a long moment of companionable silence. Peter helped himself to a bit of Remus's toast and munched contentedly.

"You won't tell anyone will you?" Remus asked suddenly. "Most of the school wouldn't be as…ah…understanding."

"We won't," said James, also taking a bit of toast.

Peter mumbled something which sounded like, "Course not," as said through a mouthful of crumbs, which it was.

"Never," pledged Sirius.

Madam Pomfrey bustled out of her office. "What are you three doing? Do you think I don't feed my patients? Out! Go to your lessons! Shoo!"

The three retreated swiftly from the angry matron. "We'll be back later," James said as he left. Peter waved merrily and Sirius winked, "See ya later Moony."

"Moony?" queried the matron, straightening Remus's pillow and looking after the boys with a disgruntled expression.

"It's my nickname," her charge informed her gleefully, snuggling down. So this was what friendship felt like.

**A/N: So what does everyone think? Review and let me know. Constructive criticism is always welcome. If people like this I may continue, I like writing Remus. It's OK as a one shot though, at least, I think so. Anyways, as I said, let me know.**


	2. Not alone

**A/N: **Well, don't I feel popular. What my public wants my public gets. Plus, since I miss my own Padfoot and Prongs at the mo I thought I'd cheer myself up by writing this. So picking up from where we left off, I give you chapter two.

It was a considerably more cheerful Remus who entered the Transfiguration classroom that afternoon. James had never seen him look so relaxed and calm, though he had never realised how tense Remus had previously been until he saw this transformation. Muttering apologies for his lateness, Remus dropped into his customary place beside Peter and within seconds was opening the note that Sirius had furtively passed him.

_You OK?_

**Yes **he scrawled back, not committing a list of his various wounds to paper, if someone else were to find it…

When the torn piece of parchment came back, the answer was written in James's hand. Sirius and I have been doing some reading and thinking Werewolves can't turn animals. If we were goats or something we'd be safe.

The words, 'unless I ate you' flashed briefly into Remus's head. Also this conversation was becoming dangerous. If anyone else was to read it they would be able to guess. **But you're not goats** he wrote eventually, unwilling to use personal pronouns.

_But we could become animagi._

Remus stared at the parchment. Reading and re-reading until he was certain he hadn't misread the words. Become animagi? It was impossible. It was insane. It was, in short, a plan concocted by James Potter and Sirius Black. He was so focused that he forgot to even half concentrate on what McGonagall was saying, even though he had long ago mastered the art of discussing the finer details of a prank, taking notes and still being alert enough to answer questions on the subject. He lifted his quill to respond, though what he intended to say he had no idea.

"Lupin!" a sharp voice barked.

"Yes Professor?" said Remus, looking up guiltily. Only when he realised which Professor stood in front of him did he remember which lesson he was in.

"Are you passing notes?"

"No Professor."

"I thought you cared more about your studies than to take notes from my lessons on such a torn, dirty piece of parchment."

Remus looked blankly at the desk where Sirius's words still glinted up at him. He could not have this confiscated and read. McGonagall knew what he was of course, all the staff did, but the others would be in trouble and after the loyalty they had shown him he could not allow that.

"This?" he said desperately. "This is-I was…I was cross-referencing something you had said. From-From my own reading."

"Really Lupin? And which particular bit of what I was saying did you feel merited such diligence."

Beside Remus, Peter shifted edgily. It looked as though he were merely nervous about being found guilty by association when McGonagall managed to prove beyond doubt that he was lying. His movement however, allowed his own untidily scrawled and badly spelled notes to slide into Remus's vision. Remus glanced at them briefly.

"The bit about Miranda Goshawk's basic rules of transfiguration," he said earnestly. His heightened senses allowed him to tell that James and Sirius had stiffened behind him, also apparently aware that there was too much on that parchment for comfort. McGonagall too had tensed; Remus could tell that she was regretting beginning this conversation but now felt that she had to follow it through.

"And what had your wider reading turned up?" she prompted him, inviting him to prove that he had been cross referencing with a quote.

Remus could sense could almost smell James's and Sirius's adrenaline spike. He groped through his memory, which was exceptionally good. He did wider reading because he was what James called neurotic, what Sirius called stupid, what Peter rather hesitantly called thorough and what Remus himself called concerned about missing lessons. And he knew the information was there, he had read something about these basic principles recently. "Clarence!" he almost shouted as the memory he wanted surfaced. "Clarence disagreed with Miss Goshawk about the number of basic principles he said-"

"Very well Lupin. You have proved your innocence. Let us not further disrupt my lesson," said Professor McGonagall cutting him off. "But put it away so that no more…mistakes…are made."

Feeling chastised and as though the Professor was aware that he was lying and was merely impressed by his knowledge Remus did as she asked. For the rest of the lesson he took exemplary notes in silence and completely ignored the notes which Sirius and James continued to send his way.

He couldn't avoid the issue for the rest of his life however, and James broached it once again as the boy exited the room in their customary huddle as the bell rang.

"So what do you think? Me and Sirius think it'd work."

"Sirius and _I_," said Remus, choosing correcting James's grammar as a preferred option over having an opinion about this.

"Sirius and I think it'd really help when you-"

"Keep your voice down!"

"Have your furry little problem," James continued smoothly.

"So what do you think?" insisted Sirius.

They were all looking at him now. "I think it's stupid," Remus said flatly.

Three mouths opened as three faces gazed at him in shock. Well they would just have to be shocked. It was a ridiculous plan and the night after the full moon Remus was in no mood to sugar coat his opinion. "It's dangerous, for many reasons, two of which are that just because I can't turn you doesn't mean I can't eat you and that the transformation is really difficult-some people get stuck half way. We'd be breaking about a million school rules, not to mention Dumbledore's trust. No one else would have let me come here you know that? And perhaps most importantly…it's illegal!"

"Only if we get caught," said Sirius easily, not looking at all perturbed by Remus's arguments.

"It's not that hard Remus," James argued, his tone the reasonable one he always used to assure his parents that what he wanted to do wasn't that unreasonable/messy/expensive. "I've looked over the instructions and I know it's not something we'll master overnight but I think we're all bright enough not to let it kill us either."

"And if I eat you?" demanded Remus harshly.

For a second James flickered, "There'll be three of us, we won't let you. And all the books say a werewolves mind is malleable. When with other werewolves, in a pack, they become less human so, theoretically, with us, you'd be _more _human. Wouldn't you?"

Remus felt himself wanting to agree. He was tired and sore, he still had marks all down his side and the idea of having some control was appealing. He became more wolfish on the run up to the full moon. When that was the case his friends were able to bring him back to himself like no one before them had ever been able to. Like even Romulus had never been able to. And that was without trying. Shaking his head to clear thoughts of Romulus, Remus forced himself to ask, "And what about Dumbledore?"

"Well…" for the first time James looked uncomfortable.

Remus scanned their faces. Sirius looked as though he wanted to say that what Dumbledore didn't know wouldn't hurt him but had more sense that to try Remus's patience at the moment. Oddly, it was Peter that spoke up.

"I don't think Dumbledore would condemn us for trying to help a friend."

"No of course he wouldn't."

"He'd be on our side Reams."

"I hate that name," Remus muttered absently, marvelling at how easily their consciences were salved.

They were still looking at him, but their expressions weren't shocked anymore. They looked pleading. And Remus wanted it so much. It was so lonely during the full moon. And it hurt so much. And, though he'd never admit it, it was frightening in the shack alone. Besides, the charm was difficult and this was James and Sirius. They'd get bored and forget about it. It wasn't as though it was something he was ever really going to have to deal with. So why not be supportive? Why not plan adventures? It was all hypothetical anyway and it would turn their minds away from the endless Quidditch talk at least. With something else on their minds there might even be fewer detentions.

"Alright," he said, "You can try."

"Try?" said James in mock outrage, "We'll do it." And he moved to the front to lead the grinning Remus, the giggling Peter and the grimacing (once he realised where they were heading) Sirius to the library to begin.

**A/N: **More coming soon. Requests for scenes (if supplied in the form of flattering reviews) will be considered.


	3. Practice

Fourth year

            "Where are you going? It's already past curfew," demanded Remus as Sirius glanced at his watch and stood as though to exit the common room. Remus' voice cut through the velvet thick silence of the James and Peter looked up startled at the noise.

"Date," answered Sirius casually.

Remus frowned. It was hard to tell with Sirius' face only partly illuminated by the dying embers of the fire and half a dozen candles but Remus was sure he was lying.

"A date that doesn't start until one in the morning?"

"Some people," Sirius replied haughtily, "like adventure and passion and illicit trysts with charming suitors."

"Thought it was you who had a date," James muttered.

            Peter giggled.

            Remus narrowed his eyes. "Who with? You were seeing that Gryffindor third year this morning and she hasn't walked past us."

            "That blond from Hufflepuff."

The sentence was perfect, it was delivered with the perfect amount of smug bastardry that so characterised Sirius, could actually refer to half of Hufflepuff House and it wasn't unheard of for Sirus to arrange a meeting with a girl whose name he didn't know. Either he was telling the truth or he was a very god liar. And Remus knew for a fact that Sirius Black was a very good liar who sometimes told the truth, so either was possible.

He was about to concede defeat when he became aware that Sirius had locked eyes with James and the two were communication in their unnatural silent little way.

"Right!" he demanded, "What is going on?"

"Nothing," replied both boys innocently, too innocently.

"You're so untrusting Moony. As though we'd ever do anything wrong…well, we might but we would mention it so that you didn't get caught in the crossfire."

"Don't give me that Potter. I know you're doing something, frankly I don't much care but we've already spent half the night doing a punishment essay for McGongall due to," Remus tried valiantly to repress a smirk, "the rather regrettable mouse incident, and I have actual work to do tomorrow because it's the moon on Friday. I don't have time to be in shit tomorrow night."

"You won't Moony," replied James soothingly. "It's just phase one tonight," he added just as Sirius said, "It's just a date."

Remus looked from one of them to the other and fought the urge to start punching. "What is phase one?"

Sirius and James exchanged another look. Remus had the distinct impression they were trying not to laugh.

"It's a renaissance mission," piped up Peter, "they've found a new secret passageway."

This was such an anticlimax that Remus actually did throw his inkpot at James, who jerked backwards and toppled a pile of books from the table to the floor. "You are such an ignoramus. Why not just say that? I could have gotten this last paragraph finish ten minutes ago if I hadn't been worrying about Playboy over there running amok without supervision."

James tilted his chair back. "Didn't want to worry you. Besides, you like exploring and we thought you might feel left out."

"I'm not a girl Potter. I can cope with the idea of not being the integral component to every outing."

Sirius took his chance and headed for the door. He raised his hand by way of acknowledgement as Peter called, "Good luck," and left, the sounds of the others bickering following him out into the deserted corridor.

Silence fell once again over the common room table, punctuated only by the sounds of scratching. James was hoping that Remus would let the matter drop, and that they could procure a new passageway to show him. He was also hoping that everything went alright for Sirius. It would have been safer to try in the common room, but they couldn't risk being caught.

Remus sighed and leaned over the side of the table to root through the books that he had dropped earlier. After a moment he pulled up a deep burgundy book: _Theoretician to Expert. Your Anamagi Transformation._

"I thought you'd forgotten about this. I haven't heard you mention it in ages."

James shifted in his seat. "We got stuck."

"And there was the Quidditch season," Peter reminded him helpfully.

"Plus, we know you don't strictly approve so we try and keep a low profile."

"Does this have something to do with this passageway?"

James sighed; sometimes Remus was just to astute for his own good, or more accurately for James' good. He again tried the wounded innocence. "You're so suspicious Moony. You should have been in Slytherin; they always assume people are plotting against them too."

"We usually are," commented Remus mildly. "So does it?"

"Sirius thinks he's got it, but we couldn't risk him being caught transforming in here," he confessed after a long moment.

"So he's gone where?"

 "The shack."

Remus' lips moved soundlessly for a moment. The plan was inherently stupid and much more complicated than it needed to be but he couldn't find a single complaint. He scrawled half a dozen more words. "I'm going to bed."

James and Peter watched him stomp up the stairs in relative silence. "He took that well."

"Yes. Shall we go and see how Sirius is getting on?"


	4. Injuries

            Remus sat in the shrieking shack, as the locals of Hogsmede had taken to calling it and gulped in several deep, cleansing breaths. He did not think he had ever felt so sick in his life, admittedly he thought that before every full moon, and admittedly he would take this nervous nausea over the pain which would engulf him in about twenty minutes time, but he still wished it would pass. It was mostly the effects of the month and the beginning of the changes they caused in him, some months it was so bad that he could barely concentrate in lessons for two or even three days before the actual event itself. But there was also an element of guilt and of worry.

He glanced out of the tiny and dusty window. The sky overhead was darkening. Sighing, Remus removed his clothing and folded it before placing it on a shelf too high for the wolf to reach he hoped, he knew what a mess the wolf would make of cloth. He pushed that thought away sharply, sending another wave of sickness through his body but if he started obsessing over the bad things he had done as the wolf now, he would have a hideous time of it when the change proper finally began.

            He felt slightly self conscious sitting naked on the floor. He idly traced patterns with his fingers in the dust; glancing out of the window at the steadily darkening sky. His body was taught as a bow string and every so often shudders, of what an observer could only have assumed were caused by fear, racked his slender body. Then suddenly he threw back his head and screamed. The scream in his agony changed his voice from its current breaking warble to the prepubescent treble it had been only a few months previous. Then he fell back against the floor twitching uncontrollably and sobbing like a child. When his limbs began to change he began to scream again and then that scream became the shriek of a wounded animal and finally one long, sinister howl.

            The wolf looked out of the window. Its yellow eye glinted evilly. It knew this place intimately, knew the smell of decay and of the rodents which continued to elude it by hiding in cracks in the walls and floors. The wolf knew there was no way out and it was hungry. It sat, bunching its hindquarters under it like a malevolent dog. Then it dipped its snout to its left foreleg and began to slowly and methodically rip away the flesh. It was hungry. It would eat. It would feast on blood, even if that blood was its own. And later, later it would search once again for a way out of this wooden cage.

            The next thing Remus was aware of was a harsh glaring light and the feeling that he was lying on a mound of mashed potato. He opened his eyes a single crack. The school hospital wing looked back at him. He closed his eyes and groaned. Usually, he had at least blurry recollections of being brought back into school by the matron, if he didn't remember anything that meant his injuries were particularly severe. With his eyes still shut he tried to inventory said injuries but he felt strangely disconnected from his body. The hospital wing was strangely silent and that was odd because it was Saturday and since the others had discovered his condition he had never yet awoken from a full moon on a day with no lessons alone.

            Opening his eyes fully, Remus sat up. Looking down at himself he became aware that he wasn't wearing pyjamas but was merely swathed from head to toe in bandages like a mummy. On discovering this, Remus developed a whole new respect for the strength of Madam Pomfrey's pain killing potions. By rights, he shouldn't be able to move at all and all he could feel was a faint and generalised discomfort. At the foot of the bed was Peter, his head where Remus' feet had been only moments before, sound asleep.

            "Oy," whispered Remus.

            Peter didn't move. Remus tried to kick him and discovered that he couldn't move his foot that far, pain killing potion or not.

            "Peter!" he tried again a little louder.

            This time Peter did jerk awake. "Wha…?" he muttered sleepily. Then, "Morning Moony, thank goodness you're awake. We were worried dude. You were such a mess, Sirius had to go and be sick…" he faltered at the expression on Remus' face.

            _What did he look like under these bandages? _Remus wondered. "So where are the others?" he asked, for the sake of something normal to say.

            "Detention." Peter answered in a where-else, tone of voice.

            Remus raised his eyebrows. Very few teachers gave detentions on a Saturday; they wanted their time off just as much as the students did.

            "It's funny actually," said Peter giggling. "James wanted to seduce Evans right?"

            "Right?" Remus said warily, these stories never had happy endings.

            "Well, he talked Sirius into stealing some of that polyjuice potion Slughorn has in his office, changing into James and serenading her outside the window. I mean Sirius can at least sing. And if that didn't work, James worked out that she'd come storming down the stairs into the common room because it would be easier to hex him from those windows. And James, the real James not Sirius masquerading as James, would wait there for her with chocolate and flowers."

            "Right," said Remus again who thought he could see where this was going.

            "Sirius, not being Evans' stalker, got the wrong window and spent half an hour serenading McGonagall, who dragged him off to her office. And that probably would have been fine, except that he turned back into himself half way through so the whole sorry mess about stealing the potion came out. So they're spending the weekend helping the house elves."

            "Right," said Remus for the third time. He didn't smile. He thought the story was funny but in a very distant sort of way. The pain was beginning to come back too. It felt like tiny imps were rubbing cheese graters all over him. He slumped back on his pillows. "Pete?" And his voice sounded tinny in his own ears. "Do me a favour? I need Madam Pomfrey and her drugs." He felt the bed move as Peter stood up. He shut his eyes, swallowed and counted to ten. And then Madam Pomfrey was at his side, Madam Pomfrey and her blessed medication. He reached for the spoon and realised that he couldn't move either of his arms. He opened his mouth and allowed her to pour a generous dose inside. Then he waited for his head to clear.

            "How am I going to eat?" he demanded of the nurse, twitching one of his near useless arms in her direction.

            "Someone will have to feed you," she answered, fussing with her tray of potions which had become disordered when she leaned over the bed to administer Remus' dose. Remus flushed dully and didn't look up at Peter.

            "Moony, I will, or one of the others. It's not a prob-"

            "I know," Remus' voice was barely audible but was sharp nevertheless. "I know Pete." He still didn't look up.

            "Speaking of food, would you like breakfast Mr. Lupin?" Madam Pomfrey asked, now straightening Remus' coverlet.

            Remus' stomach growled. He smiled at the nurse. "Not right now thanks. I still feel a bit sick."


End file.
